Last night I slept with a lizard in the room. It wasn't intentional. In fact, when I came back from using wifi to talk to my family and friends, I noticed the lizard on the wall of my small one-room accommodation and managed to stifle a scream... (it was almost midnight). He was bright yellow and about seven inches long. When I moved towards him with the hopes to capture him in a glass mug and return him to the desert outside my door, he darted beneath my bed, lost for the rest of the night. I was surprised I could sleep in his presence but I wrapped myself in blankets and decided I was too tired to fight the gnawing feeling that he might possibly slither up onto my bed during the night. In other words- I let it go.
I arrived at Kibbutz Lotan yesterday during the afternoon. Its about 80 degrees everyday here with a bright, hot, shining sun and no clouds. Its nestled in the middle of the desert and all around me the kibbutz is surrounded by mountains of dust and rocks for miles and miles. Its quite beautiful and pictures can't seem to do it justice.
Lotan is part of my thesis adventure because it hails itself as an "eco tourism" site. Most of the buildings are made out of recycled materials and all around are little oases for birds. Dr. Michael Livni also lives here. He is a renowned researcher in the field of kibbutz and Jewish studies and he has written prolifically about kibbutzim and environmentalism. I have used much of his work as an antithesis for my thesis during preliminary research and literature reviews. When I arrived and found out he was a member of kibbutz Lotan I was more than a little excited. Hopefully I'll be able to meet him while I'm here!!
Last night after checking into my room at Lotan I drove over to Yahel- about a twenty minute drive on highway 90 through the desert. Yahel was interesting. I had a different vibe there from any other kibbutz I had visited. The meeting felt rushed and the CEO even said to me, "there are too many researchers like you who come to me. Three or four a year..." Despite his unwillingness to share, I got some interesting information. When I came back later to eat dinner at Lotan, I sat with kibbutz members who are my age. They told me there exists a tension and competition between Lotan and Yahel. Apparently the kids used to go to the same regional school but that stopped years ago. Originally, legend has it that Yahel didn't want Lotan to exist because it drew tourism from the region away from their kibbutz. But I am still trying to get to the bottom of the tension. Different people have told me different things, some citing differences in opinion over money and religion. I think perhaps the people just have different personalities and ideas; it certainly seemed that way to me.
In any case, I feel quite welcome at Lotan and I am grateful that this is the place I am using as a base to sleep at for a few days while I tour around other kibbutzim. Lotan is liberal and open. They have set up several meetings for me and all the kids (my age) who volunteer or live here have been quite kind. They are curious about my project and I am curious about their lives. This connection with the local people during the last two weeks has been a phenomenal experience I won't ever forget. I think it will add color to my thesis and I know it has already added color to my life.
I interviewed Rabbi Leah (pronounced like Princess Leah from Star Wars) Benami late last night in the kibbutz office while the perfect stars shone brightly from the window. She told me about her thoughts towards the connection between Judaism and environmentalism on Lotan and she also explained some of the recent changes Lotan has undergone financially. She was blunt but kind and had a no-nonsense quality about her. I like that Lotan is liberal and accepting but yet associates themselves with the reform Jewish movement. They have a kosher kitchen, they observe shabbat and they have prayers on the weekends. They don't claim to be secular yet they are uniquely liberal.
I feel like I'm camping. There's something so different about the desert communities than the ones I visited in the North. At Lotan in particular there is absolutely no privacy. The room I'm staying in is connected to another room and they have a shared porch outside. When I was brought to my room all the curtains were open and she left the door open. Right outside my door is a whole community of people using walking paths and chattering and playing music. It reminds me oddly enough of Interlochen summer camp. Not only because of the way it looks but by the community atmosphere. And the fact that at some point during the day you can always hear some music coming from somewhere. Everyone is friendly and says hi and speaks English! They're not afraid of English speakers. Lotan was founded by Americans about thirty years ago.
My day at Ketura was different but equally as charming. Ketura houses the Arava Institute for ecological studies and has a small tourism place where guests can stay in a bed and breakfast. They are partially privatized but not fully. People still add their salaries from their various jobs into the bigger pot and get a budget based on the size of their family each month.
Here I spent the first part of my visit doing an "open day" tour where people come to learn about the kibbutz community and the Arava Institute. I was able to ask a lot of general questions to the woman who I've been communicating with named Laura Shulton. She gave me the basics of what was going on at Ketura. I then ate lunch with a bunch of local Israelis who had just finished the army. I had a long and interesting talk with an Israeli named Eidan who is deciding what he wants to do after the army.
What Eidan couldn't wrap his head around was my life. First he didn't understand my project. He was confused about how I could be doing fieldwork in Israel without a professor here. He asked, "how do you know you're doing it right?" I told him I've been working on it for a year and I've designed it so I know exactly what I had to do when I arrived. He said, "so you're just confident?" Well, I suppose that's one way to put it. He then sat for thirty minutes grilling me on how I could know I want to go to law school so soon and how I could go from studying kibbutz ecology straight to law. To him those things seemed so different. He kept saying, "the only people who I know that know exactly what they want to do after university are musicians or artists. Most everyone else floats around and travels and decides." Israeli's are so funny. They have a different way of looking at life I think. He questioned all the "why's" of my schooling and explained to me how different things are in Israel. We had a wonderful cultural exchange and I was surprised at how friendly and open he was. He told me about how he tutors children and how his army tour is in education. He said during the war last summer his job didn't change much. He moved to an area closer to Gaza and took care of children. He said the IDF was told to comfort the families and assure them... to tell them everything was going to be alright. That was heavy to hear. I can only imagine how scary that was for them and for him, having to deliver promises that could very well be empty... It could've gone either way last summer.
On a happier note, something I've noticed about the Israelis my age is that they take communication seriously. At meals no one has their phone in front of them. They leave their phones on the tables and engage in conversation with everyone around them. This happened at dinner at Lotan and lunch at Ketura. The people who I talk to, men and women, are genuinely interested in having an intellectual conversation and they don't talk about sports or electronics or pop culture. They don't pull out their phones at all during a meal. Its so refreshing. I feel so accepted here- like I'm not weird for not watching TV. There's something so real about my interactions with people.
After lunch and my conversation with Eidan, I went hiking with Ketura's agricultural expert, Yoram. I had no idea what to expect. Part of me assumed we would just walk around the kibbutz, another part of me was sure it might be something more. But I had no idea what was in store for me. When I caught up with Yoram he was wearing hiking boots and a backpack. He told me to fill my water bottle. We then walked outside the gates of Ketura and over towards the Egyptian boarder. We started to walk along and the gravel and the rocks were getting larger and more sharp. I kind of assumed we would stop at the foothills of the nearest mountain. So you can imagine my surprise when Yoram began to ascend the mountain... This was almost a 90 degree angle. In the U.S. mountains like these would be considered double black diamonds if they were covered in snow and ski-able. Alas, they are covered in rocks. Sharp rocks and dusty dirt. And we began to climb. I had no idea how high he would go but halfway through he turned to me and said, "are you afraid of heights?" I let out a breathless laugh, said no, and continued following him until we were at the top of a peak. I was afraid I could tumble down at any moment. If I had lost my footing just once I would go tumbling down fifty feet, probably with several broken bones. THANK GOD that didn't happen. Instead I watched many rocks slip to their demise as they tumbled down and down to the base where we had started climbing just minutes before.
When I finally got to the top where he was, I was shaking. Crawling on hands and knees I found a spot to sit next to him and looked down. The view took my breath away! It was stunning. We could see all of Ketura and the surrounding growing fields. From up there Yoram explained what everything was to me from an aerial view: how they watered their fields and what kind of desalinization process they use. It was an unbelievable experience that I can hardly put into words. I NEVER would have ascended the mountain if Yoram hadn't led the way. While I felt unsafe at the top, I also felt a keen sense of accomplishment and pleasure. The sun was beating down hot on my shoulders and I had made it!
When I returned to Lotan for the afternoon and evening I set myself up in a quiet corner of the kibbutz with my computer and the sun. I thought, here I will have an afternoon to myself to gather my research thoughts and perhaps blog a little. I hadn't been sitting there for a half an hour when a guy my age I met yesterday at dinner, Asaf, came up to me and offered to give me a tour of the local hangout spots on Lotan. Of course I took him up on his offer and eagerly took pictures and wrote notes as he explained to me what it was like to work as a volunteer in the ecology sector of the kibbutz. He is doing a year of service before joining the army.
Soon it began to grow dark. We stopped in the "mud neighborhood" where all the homes are built of mud, and sat down. Asaf made tea and two other girls who live there came outside and sat and talked with us. It was chilly but friendly and fun. We hung out until it got really dark and the stars were so clear we could see the milky way. I felt so comfortable amongst these friendly people and so blessed to have met them. I kept looking up at the stars and thinking how I never knew any of these people existed out here in the middle of the desert all the way around the world from me in my small bubble. And how when I got home we would still be looking up at the same stars.
(Lotan's motto, a verse from the Torah they have painted on a mud wall near the eco kaf in English and Hebrew).
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